


And We All Lose Our Charms In The End

by cerie



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Shoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She barely ever wears them, wanting to preserve those perfect red soles, and wonders if she’ll ever get him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We All Lose Our Charms In The End

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for The Newsroom season 2 through 2x08.

**September 2012**

_MacKenzie isn’t sure what’s in the box. The package is unmarked but the slanting, bold handwriting on the card tells her that it’s from Will, even if he didn’t sign it. It’s her birthday and while it’s a little shocking that she’s getting a present from him it’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility._

_She carefully unwraps the heavy paper printed with little birds and sighs when she sees the gold of a Louboutins box and the tell-tale script. The shoes are sky-high and glossy black, peep toes that will look gorgeous until it gets too cold to wear them and she puts them back in the closet until spring. She sighs._

_Will always knew how best to buy her presents._

**Christmas 2005**

MacKenzie is a little nervous about Christmas morning gift exchange with Will but her plans to go see her parents had fallen through at the last minute and Will had asked her to come spend Christmas with him instead of trudging back to her apartment to spend it alone with It’s A Wonderful Life and a bottle of whiskey.

She’s not entirely prepared to see a miniature spruce sitting on a side table with a veritable mound of presents piled beneath it. There’s got to be at least twenty or thirty and she thinks, surely, some of them must be for his family or friends but she picks up four or five and they all say “MacKenzie,” in bold, slashing print.

Fuck.

She’s got a bag with his presents: two ties, a nice watch and a bottle of cologne that she thinks smells like liquid sex and she wants him to wear for her benefit and she thinks that possibly she needs to go see if there’s anything still open this late so she can help even the score a little because Jesus fuck, he bought half of Manhattan and wrote her name on it. 

MacKenzie drops her few presents off and strips off her gloves and scarf, calling out for Will. He comes in from the kitchen, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands and his smile is so bright that she just wants to bask in it for a little while.

“I was thinking I’d let you open one tonight,” Will says, putting the glasses down and popping the cork on the wine. He pours them both a little over-full and lifts his glass to her. “I think you should go pick one out and open it.” MacKenzie laughs. With as many goddamned presents as he bought her, she could open ten and still be sitting in a sea of wrapping paper in the morning. She goes and picks a medium-sized box, rectangular, and settles on the couch next to him with the present in her lap. 

It’s professionally wrapped, that much is certain, from the crisp folds of the paper and the perfect loops of the elaborate bow on top. Will motions for her to move and stretches out on the couch before tugging her back into his arms. He sips from his wine and motions with the glass for her to open it and MacKenzie works a nail beneath the edge of the paper, ripping it carefully. 

She gasps a little when she pulls the paper away and sees burnished gold and actually squeals when there’s the curled script that heralds a pair of designer shoes nestled within the box. She lifts the lid and pulls them out, a gorgeous pair of black Christian Louboutins that are perfectly her size. She turns a little to look at Will, laughing when she sees his grin is wider than she’s ever seen it before. She drops the shoes, box and all, down onto the floor and rolls over, kissing him deeply before pillowing her head against his chest. Will’s hand finds her hair, playing softly with the ends of it. 

“Thank you, Will. They’re exactly what I wanted.”

His chest rumbles a bit beneath her ear as he laughs and she feels him brush a kiss against her hair. 

“I know. You’ve been using my computer to search like some addict looking for a fix.”

**September 2012**

_MacKenzie wears the shoes the night that Genoa is retracted. She’d been feeling good about these shoes when she put them on but as the night wears on, things just start to unravel and she realizes that Dantana fucking doctored the footage and there’s no fixing it, not even for a stellar pair of shoes._

_Will doesn’t notice her shoes. He’s too busy trying to keep his eyes on the teleprompter and holding his shit together._

_He does a better job than she does._

**December 2005**

They lay together on the couch for a little while before Will’s hands start to wander and MacKenzie laughs when his fingers deftly tug down the zip on the back of her skirt and slide beneath the silk of her panties to cup her ass. She shakes her head and kisses his chin lightly before announcing that she’s going to bed and he can choose to join her if he’s brave enough.

Judging by the way that he jumps off the couch, she’s guessing he’s got a hell of a lot of bravery tonight. 

She strips down and shivers a little and Will rolls his eyes and turns on the fireplace. He goes to a closet and pulls out a few pillows and some soft blankets and spreads them out on the floor before stripping and offering his hand to her. There’s something insanely romantic about doing this in front of a fireplace on Christmas Eve and MacKenzie sighs when Will props on his elbow beside her and runs a hand down the length of her body. She’s about to roll over and straddle him when he gets up and comes back with a long, flat box.

“Another present? Really?” He nods and she rolls her eyes before conceding to open it. This is Harry Winston and when she lifts the lid, there’s diamonds winking up at her set in an elaborate necklace. She snaps the box shut, shocked, and then opens it again just to peek. “Oh my God,” she murmurs, in complete shock, and Will takes the box from her and motions for her to turn, fastening the necklace around her neck.

“You look spectacular,” he murmurs, pressing her back against the blankets and MacKenzie whimpers when he kisses his way down her belly and between her thighs. He shifts her legs over his shoulders and looks up at her, hair tousled and blue eyes bright in the firelight. Fuck. She loves him, she thinks. She thinks she might love him. 

“I’ve never seen anyone more gorgeous than you,” he murmurs, setting his mouth against her until she’s bucking up and screaming his name.

**November 2012**

_MacKenzie guesses it’s ironic that when she finally tips Will past his breaking point and he fires her, she’s wearing the shoes he bought her for their first Christmas._

_She barely ever wears them, wanting to preserve those perfect red soles, and wonders if she’ll ever get him back._

_She doesn’t think so._


End file.
